Twisted
by Feilyn
Summary: I won the war. Neat huh? But I lost everything else. Including my mind. I'm not a Dark Lord. I swear it. Wizarding Britain has never been more prosperous. And if I demand a brunette and a redhead whenever their names start calling to me? Well, what of it?


_I'm quite upset about the last piece of gore I wrote – I showed it to a friend, and she called me twisted. I don't actually _like_ writing gore, but her comment still hurt, and I guess...actually, I've no idea why I'm doing this. It's not actually as gory as I thought it would be. Also, there's a mention of threesome, but no sex or anything. It's just an idea I'm exploring, about how the war could bring the Trio together. It makes sense, in a way…Anywayz, here goes._

.:X:.

_The war is over._

_I won._

_Neat huh?_

_The Wizarding World was so _happy _that_ _their Golden Boy pulled through for them._

_Golden Boy no longer._

_The fell over themselves trying to reward me. I accepted everything graciously, secretly planning my revenge._

_They didn't help. They just sat back and watched, whispering pretty lies while my world crumbled around me._

_As I lost everything, _everyone_ I'd ever cared about._

_This wasn't the way it was planned. Not the way it was meant to be, not how _we_ thought it out._

_There was going to be a little house in the country, with a white picket fence. No, blue. _She_ wanted it blue. Or was it red? I remember _he_ wanted it red. They argued, I think. And I laughed, happy that despite the turmoil and death around us, we still had time for the petty things._

_I would laugh now, at the pathetic half-memories that call out to me._

_If I could remember how._

_I remember how easy it was to kill him. The rush of energy suffusing my bones as I drawled the words, drunk on the power I'd stolen from him using an ancient spell so Dark even he'd never heard of it._

_I remember crying for death, _begging_ for it. Not because of my injuries – which I know now were horrific – but because I could see their mangled bodies entwined together in bloody glory. _

_I have spent years trying to attain that same exquisiteness. Numerous brunettes, countless red-heads. All of them nameless, faceless, just there for my pleasure and desperation._

_I should have died that night. I wanted to die, looking upon them and their twisted beauty. _

_But the prophecy…that goddamned prophecy. The magic sustaining it also sustained me, even as my intestines burst from my stomach and attempted to strangle me._

_See, the spells that caused my body to turn on itself weren't cast by Voldemort. And, according to the prophecy, only Voldemort could kill me._

_It was agony, gorgeous agony bathing me in its burning hot tendrils. But it was nothing to seeing them, their faces forever frozen in a rictus of pain._

_They died with my name on their lips. Those beautiful lips…_

_I called out then. Called out to the Dark, the Eye of the Storm, that calm insanity in the midst of chaos. Voldemort may have wielded the Dark Spaces, that emptiness between the stars, but such power doesn't belong in this world._

_So I took him out of it._

_It wasn't that hard, really, not with the Eye backing me, not with half my body given over to pure Dark Magic._

_Even Voldemort didn't go so far as to make his body a home for an unknown force of magic. But then again, Voldemort's legs weren't completely useless lumps of meat and cracked bone with the marrow sucked out. I needed a war wound, but I also needed to look imposing, which is why I let the Eye into my body, my soul._

_Every day, I savour the look on his face._

_Every._

_Day._

_It was pretty much a given that I would win the election. The Wizarding World was too ignorant to realize I wasn't everything they'd ever dreamed of._

_I'm not another Dark Lord. I know that small faction against me maintains that I am, but I am _not.

_After all, Wizarding Britain is prosperous, more so then it's been in centuries. There is no sign of war brewing and people are allowed to live their lives pretty much as they always have._

_And if I demand a brunette and a red-head every time _their_ names come back to me? Well, is that really so much to ask? I've not tried to wipe out Muggles or Muggleborns. The halfbloods are safe from any self-loathing I may experience. The Purebloods are allowed to breed themselves into extinction…if that even makes sense._

_So what if there's not been an election in the last fifty-seven years?_

_I just want to _forget.

"Potter."

"Malfoy." I am jerked out my thoughts by the Deputy-Minister, my long-standing companion and the only person alive who knows the truth about how I manage to walk on very obviously useless legs.

"They're here."

I smile. "Send them in. I quite like this pair."

He rolls his eyes. "You say that about them all Potter," he replies, leaving the door open and ushering in the chained and naked pair. "Have fun."

I ignore him in favour of staring at the current brunette. She squirms under my gaze, and the red-head steps protectively in front of her.

I do so love it when they start feeling for each other.

It's the same ritual, whenever _their_ names call out to me. I remember each and every spell that was performed on _them_. This is what the Eye of the Storm does to your mind. Everything becomes crystal clear.

Unless you wish to forget.

The red-head is blind. I remember the day it happened but I don't remember how I reacted.

It's gone. I'm glad.

Today is the day, I think. The day I will perform the Spell.

I flicked my fingers and they were both kneeling. I heard the brunette growling and smiled. This one was more like _her_ then all the others.

_Maybe this time I will get it right._

.:X:.

_Um…so…what did you think? It's just the tip of the ice-berg with the whole Trio thing, you'll definitely be seeing more of it from me. This story was originally going to be as gory as I could possibly make it, but my mind wandered off somewhere else, and I think I like this better. I won't be classing it as a Horror story, but rather as a Tragedy. Please, review, I'd really like to know what you think._


End file.
